He made a noise of confirmation. Then, he continued with his examination. “Did she tell you of anything else?”
“Just those two spots,” I replied a little too quickly. Internally, I kicked myself.
Get a fucking grip.
The healer lifted her head, brushing her silvery hair out from beneath her back.
It should be me doing that.
I loathed myself for the thought.
Sylaira let out a small, pained noise. The sound shattered me. “Can you give her something to keep her unconscious too?”
The male finally finished his examination and lifted his gaze. “I can.” Judgment loaded the words.
“She can’t escape. She is far too valuable to the crown,” I growled, this time sounding far more like my normal self. Probably because it wasn’t a lie. If she ran again…I would absolutely break her, without hesitation. Whatever it took to make her mine.
The bond hummed its agreement, curling up like a watchful beast behind my sternum.
“Understood,” the male confirmed. He eased her upright and poured more poppy and something else I couldn’t namedown her throat—probably whatever he wanted to give her to help her magic. “I have some spare clothes for her to wear so she doesn’t catch even more of a chill.”
“I’ll dress her.” The words were out of my mouth before I could stop them. “I’m not sure I have enough energy to fetch myself food. If you could ask the tavern-keep to prepare something for me so I don’t have to go back out in the rain?”
The healer swept into a low bow. “Of course, Herr Räviel. I will find clothes for the Seer and then allow you privacy.” When he straightened, his eyes tightened ever so slightly at the corners.
“I appreciate it,” I replied, forcing myself to keep my distant air. Hopefully he attributed my mood to the lack of rest and depletion of my magic. At least I hadn’t hit burnout—even though I’d been close. Far closer than I’d been since my magic manifested and I started honing the weapon it provided me. With ice-blue irises, it was nearly impossible to succumb to it. Our magic slowed to a trickle before it ran out completely, giving us plenty of time to surrender our holds.
From another cabinet, he produced a thick wool sweater that would swim around her shoulders, along with a loose pair of pants. “If you’ll ensure these are rolled up past her knee, I would appreciate it. It will allow me to track her progress more easily and adjust the binding as needed.”
“Of course,” I replied, accepting the clothes from him. With a nod, he departed, his footsteps echoing down the stairs. When the bell above the door rang, signaling his departure, I strode to my mate.
Her lashes brushed her cheeks, brows relaxed and at ease. Blue no longer tinged her lips, and that peachy color finally returned in full. She was undeniably beautiful, a Goddess fallen to our earth.
Picking up the shears, I removed the last of her leggings,careful not to touch her in too intimate of a way while she was unconscious. She’d be angry enough with me upon awakening. That didn’t stop my cock from hardening, pressing painfully against the restraints of my pants. I had to stop and adjust myself before snaking light beneath her so I could peel the wet clothing from her skin.
White held her aloft while I shimmied the pants up her legs, careful not to jostle her knee. I rolled the left side up to leave her wound accessible, the fresh binding around it a welcome sight. It was far better than what I had managed in the hollowed-out trunk. The mottled, bruised skin that peeked out of either side flashed anger inside me.
Shoving the tumult of emotion aside, I worked her tunic off and dried the bind around her breasts with a nearby cloth. It was still damp when I was finished, but I didn’t want to remove it. So instead, I covered her with a thick sweater, hoping it would absorb the rest of the moisture.
I ferried her to the waiting bed, fatigue clawing up my spine. The plush pillows nestled her, and I found a heavy pile of blankets to cover her. A soft sigh fled her lips as I tucked the wool around her shoulders.
Almost like she appreciated how I cared for her.
I smothered the hope that came with that sound.
Her scent—ghostflower, still clinging to her rain-soaked skin—filled my nostrils. I inhaled it like the selfish, greedy male I was.
The bell rang again, forcing me to back away from my mate. The bond thrashed with each step I placed between us. But I had to—for both our safety. Iaoth couldn’t hear of this before I had time to speak with her.
“Hot stew and rolls for you, Herr Räviel,” the healer called out. I emerged from the room just as he ascended the stairs. Heplaced it on a table by the hearth, and I took a long route around, keeping my back—and my mate mark—hidden.
“Thank you, healer. That will be all for now,” I dismissed him.
“Are you certain you don’t want me to sit with her?” he asked, head cocked slightly to the side.
“Perhaps when I am ready to sleep,” I told him.
He nodded and swept into another low bow. “In that case, I’ll be in the workshop downstairs preparing more potions for her recovery.” Spinning on his heel, he disappeared once again.
